


Tying-off

by Luzula



Category: due South
Genre: Closure, Community: dsc6dsnippets, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After thirty years, Victoria wants closure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tying-off

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "weave". Not actually that angsty, so don't be scared off. : )

Her hair was short and graying these days, her clothes different. Still, Ben's gaze snagged on her immediately. He stopped, staring at her as she approached him on the Yellowknife street. His hand moved, very slightly, towards where his service revolver would be if he were on duty.

She deserved that one, she supposed. Victoria spread her hands, palms up. "I just want to talk. In public. I don't mean any harm."

He hesitated, then said, "All right."

They went into a nearby diner, ordered tea.

"So," she said. "Still a Mountie?"

"Yes."

"Are you...all right?"

His hair was graying, short and neat. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. But God, it was still him. It felt unreal.

He nodded. "You?"

She smiled wryly. "Not robbing banks. I'm a software developer."

"Oh," he said, not betraying any surprise, then, "I'm glad."

She felt a tiny prick of anger--she shouldn't need his approval--but put it away.

Silence for a while, then she asked, "Are you married?" indicating the ring on his finger.

He nodded.

"Kids?" she asked.

"No. You?"

"Not married, not any longer. But I do have a daughter."

He drew in a breath and glanced at her sharply, but Victoria shook her head. "No. She's not yours."

Ben let the breath out again. "Right. Of course not."

She stared down at her hands. What was she after here? Absolution? No, not really. More like...closure, perhaps. This man, who was woven so inextricably into the fabric of her life, for good and for ill--she'd needed to see him again, to _know_.

She raised her head, murmured finally, "I'm sorry."

He looked at her for a long time. Then he said, "I'm sorry, too." 


End file.
